


(a) progression (of events)

by Anonymous



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Bursts, Drunkenness, Fluff, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14078499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's in the longing that's sitting in his chest that is screaming,finally, I'm here again.





	(a) progression (of events)

 

This is now the third time it’s happened. Jun doesn’t know what to feel anymore. Aside from the beautiful adrenaline rush that comes with doing something you know you’re not supposed to be doing, though.

Kissing is the only thing that Jun can recall having a real, physical participation in. It comes to him in rude, grainy mental flashes. In the hot and cold burns on both his upper and lower lips. In the longing that’s sitting just above the bottom of his chest, screaming, _finally, I’m here again_.

They’d reluctantly moved it to the bed - well, Jun didn’t know about Aiba but he had been feeling perfectly fine with them tucked into the niche of the wall. Their little exploration  consisted of nothing more than a lot of sloppy, open-mouthed kissing - that was, admittedly, now Jun’s favourite kind to do with Aiba - until Aiba made a certain choice. He’d giggled into Jun’s cheek and - as if seeing what was going on in Jun’s conflicted, nerve-filled mind - promptly passed out on his newfound kissing partner and became one with a pillow.

Jun would have been more than happy and slightly relieved to pass out as well, but he was too aware that he’d consumed at least two-quarters less of their drinks than Aiba. Nothing new there. Everything was still clear as day. The fact that he was considering Aiba’s blackout to be a rejection just confirmed how much more sober than drunk he really was. And kept him up as a result.

But it was a terrifying thought to ascertain, for some reason. There he was - unusually the one more sober than the two of them, but the one who had initiated said kiss. Emotions and urges are peculiar like that. Particularly suppressed ones, Jun supposed rationally. This is what he got for bottling up all of those stupid emotions for too long. A chain reaction of small little things sure could cause strange things to happen.

That, and the desire to kiss Aiba was also something that had been festering in the back of Jun’s mind for a long, long time. Wondering what Aiba’s cheeks felt like, what part of his skin made him laugh and writhe when touched, what his kisses felt like at the start, all the way to a mutual end…

So Jun was left lying there: wide awake, plagued - as per usual - by his own irrational but deeply analytical thoughts, and a strange craving for udon noodles.

 

* * *

 

 

When it all started, both of them had had way too much sake at that tiny little restaurant. That was for sure. Jun hadn’t been in the greatest state of mind either. He’d been forcing the happy nature he usually displayed in public too much, and it had taken its toll. The most toxic combination for him, really. He grew more and more emotional, to the point where it got borderline disgusting (on the right date and in the right capacity, what usually happened with just Ohno and Aiba could just as easily fall upon an easily-touched Jun). Caught up in all that feverish emotion, without even so much as a warning to himself, let alone poor Aiba, he’d leaned over the table with great difficulty and decided to hug the life out of his best friend. Somewhere along the line, that had transitioned into a kiss.

A kiss.

Even now, looking back on that, Jun had cursed out loud. He had no idea what the _fuck_ came over him. Decade-long curious thoughts on Aiba Masaki aside. It just came out of him. And he can’t ever just blame it on the alcohol - there had been a whole fucking table between them for crying out loud. That sounded like the kind of valid but totally invalid reasoning Nino would give him if Jun went to him to lament. The entire situation seemed even stupider than he remembered Aiba of _course_ responding to the kiss full and in kind, yanking him over properly by the sleeve of his sweater. Aiba tasted of everything - sake, umeboshi, pork cutlets, noodles - and Jun relished in that. Literally. Everything felt _right_ , and clicked into place.

And then it got turned into a classic Arashi anecdote, and that was when Jun decided he couldn’t deal. On the outside, perhaps. Laughed it off. Gave Aiba a small punch on the arm for oversharing. He’d anxiously monitored every broadcast Aiba very much enjoyed making the confession on. And inside, he was terrified. He didn’t even dare to think about jumping online to see what a field day the media had experienced while feasting on Aiba’s super subtle admission on possibly sharing a kiss with his band mate.

They had stopped talking a bit in the aftermath of the broadcasts. Well, Jun had, but lovely, innocent, silly Aiba hadn’t gotten the memo on his silent treatment. Was still friendly, unbearably affectionate, and typically nosy.

So long as the same mistake wasn’t made twice, Jun could learn to live with it.

 

* * *

 

 

**1:51am**

Which brings them to now.

Jun glances over a few inches to his left where Aiba is unconscious - at least, he sorely hopes so - spreadeagled on his back with only his profile visible in the darkness. His broad but paper-thin chest rises and falls, his hand sprawled on top of his ribs. It really is a beautiful sight. Jun just _knows_ he could lie here all night and easily think of a litany of descriptive words to somehow summarise Aiba’s gorgeous body into a paragraph. He really doesn’t want anyone else to have this privilege of seeing Aiba in this docile, wordless state, so far away from the bright man that thousands of people saw every day.

He rolls onto his side generously and extends a hand towards Aiba’s, the thought of wanting to share more than just three kisses with Aiba in his lifetime flitting across his mind. But at the same time, Aiba moves gingerly but the abrupt movement surprises Jun and the next thing he knows, their foreheads are smacking into each other painfully.

“Ow!”

“Fuck’s sake…”

Together they roll left and right, clutching their heads with the heels of their palms and groaning in unison like some kind of disturbing comedy skit gone haywire. Aiba’s eyes fly open first. He tries to sit up at the same time Jun swings himself over the edge of the queen-sized bed, but he’s shot back down by the invisible force of nature that is the hangover.

“Hurts! It hurts... _ah_ …” Aiba shrieks under his breath feverishly, rubbing both his forehead and temple. “Matsujun…” His realisation is too late, once he sees Jun’s hunched back.

“Masaki.” With years of practice, Jun keeps the annoyed hiss out of the name, but his head is sending him through hell. “Seriously, is your head made of rock or what?!”

But Aiba doesn’t get the chance to properly answer him - he’s already up and making a mad dash for the bathroom. Jun spots him mistake the wall for the door and unsuccessfully bites back a laugh.

“Shh…” Aiba mumbles, his voice clearly echoing against the tiles on the floor.

“You didn’t eat anything before you drank this time. And no water in between,” Jun tiredly admonishes Aiba upon his rocky return. He knocks back onto his own pillow. “Rookie mistakes.”

Aiba rotates in a wobbly circle in his spot on the bed. He raises his hands in a praying motion, politely begging for forgiveness in a series of whispers.

“You’re weird,” Jun says, first grabbing a hold of the joined hands, planning to push them down, but holding on to them a little longer.

“I am,” Aiba just says plainly, shrugging. He falls onto a pillow facefirst.

Jun relinquishes his hold and places his hands over his eyes. He looks through his fingers at Aiba with a thoughtful gaze, wondering if love was truly a possibility for him and this man.

 

**2:06am**

“You still awake?” Jun asks the room with a deep sigh.

“My headache is,” Aiba’s pathetic voice filters through his pillow. “I’m dead though.”

 _Same_ , Jun says in his head, rolling over with squeezed eyes.

“Matsujun…” Aiba starts tentatively. “The others will wonder why I’m in your room,” he reminds Jun, mindful of the other’s very well-known need for privacy. Anything otherwise will look suspicous. Especially to…

“Nino?”

“Yeah…”

“If he asks? He won’t ask. He won’t dare.”

Jun feels like he’s reassuring the both of them, laughing a little at the prudent side of AIba that he rarely gets to see. “If any of them do, say you forgot your card, as usual.” He jerks his chin out the bedroom door to the neat beige lounge seated in the middle of the lounge room. “You slept there all night. That’s as much as they need to know.”

Aiba stares at him. “For how long?”

Jun is confused on what he’s questioning. So he can’t say.

“I’m so tired,” Aiba mumbles on a fast exhale.

To Jun’s quick dismay, his mind immediately thinks of one thing he could _never_ grow tired of. And that was being with Aiba.

 

**2:33am**

“Love,” Aiba breathes, completely and utterly unprompted.

Jun no longer has the physical strength left in him to crane his neck and give Aiba’s body a puzzled look - not that his expression would even be considered in their states.

“What about it,” Jun says without thinking.

Aiba inhales and exhales longingly, eyes trained on the ceiling, his fingers tapping something that Jun can’t see before he answers in a deep voice, “Whether we like it or not, I think it’s something everyone needs.”

Jun’s entire face crumples at the unexpected observation. He doesn’t question it. Processes it a little. Acknowledges that it’s probably the truth. But he can’t bring his mouth to accept the nerve signal from his brain. It’s much more than just a neurological dilemma, though.

 

**2:57am**

Jun opens his eyes to an added weight on his body and his first instinctual thought is to wonder if someone is playing a prank on him.

Except, it’s still dark. Who would sacrifice their sleep to pull something on him?

His instincts kick in before his brain wants to, trying to shift his body down in one go to assess the situation. But he re-realises too late that it’s Aiba, splayed across the bed in an impossible position just to have his head resting against his collarbones. His chin comes into contact with the beginning of Aiba’s forehead, and the rest is history.

Jun groans, feeling his rash mistake evoke yet another head splitting headache. Aiba frowns and moans rather loudly into one of Jun’s nipples, and Jun just _knows_ it’s had the same effect on him.

 

 

**3:11am**

“I said sorry--”

“You know,” Aiba is saying with a grimace to his voice, a makeshift ice pack of cloth and ice cubes on his forehead; Jun is holding a similar creation on his own, “If you want to wake me up, just yell at me. Headbutting me again doesn’t help anyone.”

“I didn’t _headbutt_ you,” Jun rebuts warily, too dazed to elaborate or give a better defence. After five seconds, without even having to open his eyes, he figures Aiba is giving him a look and demanding a follow-up anyway.

Jun sighs for the umpteenth time, but it barely escapes his lips now. It’s come to this now. They’re both thirty-five year old grown men in a hotel room in Osaka, having bawled their eyes out less than five hours ago, and now they’re about to be brought undone by something as trivial as Aiba wanting to rest against his chest in his sleep.

“You were...laying all over me,” Jun explains shoddily. “Your head was here.” He points to where his heart is. “I didn’t know...for some reason my first thought was that Nino was up to something. I tried to get up, and that’s when I bumped you.” He considers all of that, staring at Aiba with a conflicted frown. “Why were you on me like that?”

Aiba stares at him back. “Does that even have to be asked at this point?”

Jun cocks his hurting head, but instead of saying anything that will humiliate him further, Aiba’s free hand begins a slow journey across the space between them. It speeds up just as it comes into contact with Jun’s hand resting on the sheets, and then stills on top of it, waiting for a reaction. Positive, negative - Aiba looks like he’ll take anything.

Jun just wants Aiba to stop looking at him like the world’s about to end.

“Matsujun…” Aiba mumbles.

In no time, Jun’s thumb stretches to run across the soft back of Aiba’s hand. He doesn’t even try smothering a smile at the happy feeling it gives him.

“You know, right?” Aiba asks shyly.

“Masaki,” Jun mutters. But he doesn’t have to say anything. Not this time. All along, he’s been the one underestimating this thing. It’s only happened three times, but maybe Aiba felt like that was enough. The connection had always been there, on and off. It just took this to establish it fully. The look in Aiba’s eyes tells him that Aiba already knows all of this. For Jun, too, actions will always speak better than words ever can. They hold a visceral weight that matters more than anything else. They both communicate better with feeling rather than talking.

“Matsujun,” Aiba’s awed voice asks again, but Jun silences him with an impatient, “Jun. Call me ‘Jun’. I think it’s about time, don’t you?” Hesitation overcomes the both of them, but curiosity wins the battle with Jun. “Why don’t you ever call me that?”

Aiba’s eyes dart away with a bashful smile. “I can’t.”

“I can’t change that you’re older than me. It has and always will be that way.”

Because it’s true, Jun thinks. This applied to the others, too. None of them would really address him by his given name unless it was done in jest or for the camera. Or when Ohno got insanely frustrated, but even that was rare. The problem sat mostly with Aiba. Was Aiba that scared to just casually namedrop him? Even now?

“You always…” Aiba struggles to speak. “I don’t know. Even though...even though I could do this now…” His apprehension comes through as he moves close to Jun and leaves a kiss on his cheek. “It’s like you could take someone’s eyes out with your bare fingers if they do something wrong by you. Sometimes,” Aiba stresses with wide eyes. “But you’re also _so_ gentle. They’re two very different sides to you. There is no in-between. I just get afraid of not knowing where I stand with you sometimes. I don’t want to upset you. I don’t want to become a person you get angry with because I do something you don’t like… I couldn’t...deal with that.”

Jun laughs. “You overthink things.”

“It’s better than _not_ thinking.”

Jun supposes there’s some truth to that. He decides on a compromise. “I’d like you to, though. When we’re alone, just the two of us, you can call me just that. No, I _want_ you to.”

Aiba bristles visibly.

“...Really?”

“ _Masaki._ ”

Give it up, he’s saying.

That’s Aiba’s cue, never mind the classic exasperation embedded in Jun’s tone. Aiba smiles and takes a deep breath. His voice is husky and low when he finally says it: “Jun.”

Jun moves across to him and kisses him for it. They sink into the bed, smiling into each other’s mouths.

 

**4:32am**

“Nino.”

Aiba’s single word is accompanied by a familiar groan. Jun’s eyes are searing and stinging with a lack of sleep. He can only guess he’s had about forty minutes total of sleep this morning.

He’s going to die.

And Nino’s most likely going to barge into their room soon, find him and Aiba together in bed, come to stupid conclusions and then witness his death.

“Good morning to you, too.” 

Aiba recognises the tone Jun uses and leans over quietly, planting the smallest kiss just to the side of his lips.

“What’d he say?” Jun asks, knowing Nino is only bothered to communicate virtually.

“It’s an emoji,” Aiba mumbles, “I can’t really describe it…”

“I’m not looking at your phone. I’ll lose my goddamn eyesight.”

“...well. The upshot of it is, Nino somehow knows I’m in here and I don’t know how he knows.” Aiba hisses suddenly. He’s obviously still nursing his headache.

Jun feels his body creak to life with what has been sad. Being an instinctual man by nature, his first urge is to tell Aiba to hide. In anything. The closet. The bathroom, in the bath, behind the shower curtain. Behind the ridiculously huge TV propped up on the wall across from them. Pretend like he’d gone out for a really early breakfast on the beach. Nino would buy that. Jun is sure. He’s the type to make theories with no concrete evidence - even if those theories always have substance to them, which Jun hates.

He doesn’t say anything of that nature though. Whether it’s because he’s beyond exhausted, or he’s suddenly reached a point where he’s content and resigned himself to not giving a shit about this business anymore, Jun isn’t too sure.

Because he has a really big feeling that this won’t be a one-time, two-time, three-time deal anymore. He has a big hope, anyway. And somehow, that would be a lot easier to explain to Nino. “The awakening of my long lost feelings”, Jun would summarise the turn of events with a wide smile, and he’s sure that title alone would turn Nino off wanting to know any more.

That would give himself and Aiba more time to decide. What they want to do, what they want to become, if anything. Jun knows Aiba wants to do something, he’s just not certain what. He’s fine to think alcohol was an integral part of their last three get-togethers, but he hopes it wasn’t the sole motivator.

Jun recalls that he hasn’t said anything on Nino’s message.

“That’s fine,” he finally says.

Aiba suddenly giggles. “Oh?”

“It’s _Nino_ ,” Jun explains tiredly. “He was bound to find out at some point. We all know how he is.”

“Well...point taken.” Aiba considers this. “You know what they say though. What stays in--”

“No.” Jun cuts across him, knowing what’s coming at the end of that sentence. “I’m sick of it staying one thing. So what if he knows? I don’t want it to end here. I don’t want to shout it out to everyone in Japan, but…”

Jun trails off, watching the sky slowly lighten outside. He can feel water coming into his eyes unexpectedly.

“I mean,” he coughs. “You know...how...we feel...honestly. I want us...to try…” Jun does a shitty job of trying to think up a word for what he wants to do with Aiba, but he knows it’s sitting at the tip of his tongue and the front of his brain. He starts to gesticulate wildly, hoping Aiba will perform one of his miracles and get it.

A tiny smile spreads across the other’s face. “Dating?”

Jun bites down hard on his lip. “Yeah... _yeah_. Maybe. Maybe.”

Aiba turns his whole body over to the side to look Jun straight in the face.

“Jun,” he says, pointedly testing his newfound allowance, and it sends a happy twist to Jun’s nervous stomach. “Look at me.”

With his arms linked behind his head in a gesture of uncertainty, Jun turns his head a little to look Aiba in the eye. Aiba flashes him his gorgeously infectious smile, and Jun doesn’t hesitate to mirror it, bashfully looking down and back up again.

“I would very much like that,” Aiba says.

“Me too,” Jun says unnecessarily, tingles spreading up and down his forearms and biceps.

He shifts some more so that he’s propped up on one elbow, leaning on his side, and moves closer and closer to Aiba. He stops halfway through, feeling strangely shy. That’s when it strikes him that this will be their first actual kiss. On sober stomachs. Well, reasonably sober. Jun can’t speak for his yet. Clouded, but full of jitters.

“You’re going to have to give me a bit of courage again,” Jun mumbles with his eyes downcast. He can feel his lashes touch his cheeks, focusing on that feeling until he sees Aiba’s hand appear in his vision. It holds his chin and guides him to come, come, come, until he feels a pointy nose poke into his own, and the warm kiss that follows. He’s fully aware of every detail now. Jun catches a brief look of Aiba’s eyes from up close, and feels the contentedness wash over his body.

He’d been scared for so many reasons. But now he’s sure.

It’s this.

  



End file.
